


Flush All the Pain Away

by Alcoholic_kangaroo



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-19
Updated: 2018-11-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 18:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16666294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alcoholic_kangaroo/pseuds/Alcoholic_kangaroo
Summary: Sort of pre-Maxvid. David goes into heat early and Max goes to see him to see if he can help out. This is non-sexual but has sexual undertones.





	Flush All the Pain Away

Alpha.

What a pain.

Just a word. Not even a phrase, just one single word, but one that has followed on Max's heels since his very earliest memories. He's been hearing himself referred to by that title since before he had even known what it meant. Did it mean he was cute? Did it mean he was nice? It seemed to mean, back then, that he was special. People made it seem like it meant he was special.

He doesn’t see the big deal. What’s so great about being an alpha anyway? It’s not like it gives him better grades in school or super video game playing abilities. It’s not like it guarantees him a good job or free money or better food or cooler clothes.

As far as Max has figured out as of yet, the only real difference between him and other boys his age is that he has a bone in his penis. Big. Fucking. Deal. He knows a kid at his school who grew three sets of baby teeth. Three! Like he was a fucking shark or something. Who cares about one tiny bone in a place that nobody ever sees compared to the kid with multiple sets of canines coming through?

But his entire life people have fawned over him, complimenting his parents for their achievement. Congratulations! Look at that precious little scowl. Oh, he's going to be such a good dominant when he's grown up. You're going to have so many gorgeous grandchildren you won't know what to do with yourselves.

Why would Max want that many kids? Why would he want any? Babies just cry and shit their pants and throw up all over everything.

He gets it. Okay. He _gets_ it. He’s ten, not four, he’s sat through the sex ed classes. He knows what that one extra bone means. He knows it’s not the bone itself that’s the special part. That it’s just a handy way for them to screen for alphas at birth. That there are other things that come along with the bone.

Truly, he understands what the bone means. He’s rare. The rarest of the three secondary genders. Less than one percent of the population is made up of alphas.

"Good thing, too," his teacher had chuckled, a grandfatherly old man that has probably voted Republican since the fifties. An omega because all elementary school teachers are either omegas or betas. He probably has a wife at home with giants tits who ties him up and whips him every weekend. "Imagine how dangerous this world would be if we were ruled by a majority of hot-headed know-it-alls. "

Is Max a hot-headed know-it-all? Maybe. He prefers to think of himself as more apathetic in general. He has opinions, strong opinions, but those mostly fall into the "leave me alone" or the "choke on a dick" category. He doesn't order around other kids on the playground or insist on always answering the questions in class like the books say alphas usually do. But people keep telling him that will change.

"You're pushy now, dear," his nanny, a plump omega with gray hair, had said to him last winter as she hurried to dress him for the yearly visit to his grandparents' house. And, well, of course he was being pushy. She was trying to shove him into some itchy woolen monstrosity of a sweater that was so close to his own skin color that it made him look like he was half nude and sporting wooly chest hair. "Stubborn as a mule, but just wait until you reach puberty. Not an omega alive that could resist you. I've taken care of many alpha children and you hear me, you're an alpha's alpha."

Neither of Max’s parents are alphas. Just boring old betas like a good eighty-five percent of the population. They probably would have hired him a nanny anyway, they’re not very hands-on, but the expertise of an “alpha nanny” had been especially important, according to the experts. Not that she was an alpha, mind you, she was just another boring beta, but she had helped raised enough of them to know how to deal with them.

Max doesn't feel like he needs any special care in particular and he's pretty sure she's just a scam artist, purposely swindling extra money from stupid rich parents because she can. It's not like he's an _omega._

As much as Max doesn’t get the big deal about being an alpha, he definitely doesn’t get the appeal of omegas. What a bunch of pains in the asses.

Take Harrison, for example. The only omega kid at the camp, as far as Max knows. There isn’t a handy penis-bone for them to look for so nobody can tell an omega from birth so it’s possible Nikkie or Dolph or even Nurf could be an omega-in waiting. Max doubts it, but it could happen.

The first summer Harrison had been at camp with Max had been fine. Harrison had been fine. Maybe a little quieter and a little more eager to please than some of the campers but that hadn't seemed that strange. Plenty of kids are quiet and nice without turning into a dick-craving-beast once a year.  

But this summer? Harrison has just lost it. He’s so fucking emotional. Max can insult and scream and hit the other kids, the presumed betas, all he wants. And what do they do? They tell him to fuck off or they hit him back.

But Harrison? Max says one ambiguously harsh word to that little bitch and he runs off crying. Doesn’t even get in trouble for it. You’d think somebody like that would get some backlash for constantly making a scene.

“Max, be nice to Harrison.” Gwen’s admonishment has become almost a catchphrase at this point. And it’s always Max who is getting yelled at, none of the other kids. “He’s going through a difficult time right now.”

Right, difficult. As if dealing with a weepy omega for three months isn’t difficult for Max? For the other campers? For the entire world?

What sort of parents send an omega to summer camp when they're about to go into their first heat anyway? They had to have known about it. Unless they are as uncaring and oblivious about things as Max's own parents are they have to have known. Even as a pre-pubescent alpha, the moment Harrison stepped off the bus this year Max had smelled the stench of him permeating like a pile of trash left to stew in the direct sun. Okay, maybe he could have been a little more sensitive about the situation. Because Harrison had run off sobbing with Max's less-than-stellar greeting, "Hey Harrison, why do you smell like a used tampon?"

Not that Max knows what a tampon smells like, but his grandfather always used to call omegas in heat that and he thought it was a good joke at the time. Not that he really knows if its true, never having come in contact with any used tampons in his short ten years on the planet.

"But he stinks," Max had insisted as Gwen deprived him of dessert the first night back at camp. He had been sitting at his table, watching the other kids dig into their helpings of chocolate cake. Harrison's piece had been nearly twice the size of everyone else's too. He was eating Max's cake! "Didn't you smell him? It's not my fault he forgot to shower before coming to camp."

"He didn't, he didn't forget to shower," Gwen had sighed, holding the bridge of her nose, eyes clenched shut. She muttered to herself for a moment, something about stupid insensitive alpha brats. "If anything, showering would just make it worse. He's started puberty Max, don't you get that?"

“But he still stinks.”

“Max, be quiet. Someday you’ll love that smell.”

Max seriously doubts that. Or he hopes not, anyway, because why would he be into that smell? It’s horrible. Like armpit sweat and gym socks and dog feet. Or maybe used tampons. Max still isn’t sure about that.

“Doesn’t it take away your appetite?” Max had asked Neil one night at dinner, unable to stomach the meal with Harrison sitting only two seats down from him. The omega’s appetite was healthy as it had been all summer, of course, devouring double courses at times under David’s insistence that he be given extra food. “It’s making me sick.”

“I don’t smell anything,” Nikki had piped up, her mouth full.

“Me neither,” Neil had shrugged. He didn’t have half a plateful of food in his mouth like Nikki did but he was eating at a casual, leisurely pace. “He must be early into his heat if only alphas can smell it.”

Disgusted, Max had taken to eating his meals outside under an oak tree. Gwen had protested at first, complaining that the kids all need to stay together for meals, but David had stood up for Max. “This is a difficult situation Gwen, just let Max eat wherever he wants.”

One afternoon, they were all ushered into the cafeteria and forced to watch an old black and white movie from the 50s titled "My First Heat." It was obviously made for omega eyes only, not beta eyes and definitely not alpha eyes, but Max sat through it anyway. Disgusted by the images and descriptions and the sounds and the little wavey lines that were supposed to represent pheromones. Harrison sat near the back, trying to shrink into himself, obviously embarrassed because they wouldn't be watching this stupid movie if it wasn't for him. The room smelled like rosemary and rotten eggs.

“Okay guys,” David wrapped up the film by switching the lights back on. “I hope that helped clear up a lot of questions for you all.”

“David,” Space Kid asked, raising a hand as if they were school. “I still don’t get it. Why does the first heat take so long?”

David’s face turned pink as he stuttered to explain the process using the same 50s terminology from the film, until Neil, with a roll of his eyes, interrupted.

“The first heat, or the presenting, is the beginning of omega puberty. While a normal heat, from start to finish, takes approximately a week, development of certain glands and organs can create pre-heat conditions within omegas that last four months or longer. Omegas are not born with these adaptations and the process can be quite painful at times.”

Four months?

Harrison is going to walk around smelling like dirty dishwater for four months?

"My doctor said I won't go into full heat until mid-September," Harrison explains quietly, still hiding in a  curled up ball of flopping hair and magician cape. "He said the best course of action is just to continue, as usual, take my medicine if the pain is too bad, and try to stay away from any alphas."

“But Max is an alpha,” Nerris spoke up, pointing in Max’s direction.

“Max has not presented yet,” Gwen explained. “Therefore he is no danger to Harrison in his present state. Only a post-pubescent alpha is a danger to omegas in heat.”

"Oh," the kids responded in unison as if they were sort of hive mind. Fucking betas.

Maybe being an alpha is a good thing, if he’s not going to just be another boring face in the crowd.

"So please be understanding of Harrison's, um, predicament," David stammered, clearly uncomfortable with this conversation. "If he gets a bit emotional at a times then just give him some time. It's understandable if he gets a bit moody over the next few months."

“Did you get moody?” Max asked, enjoying the shade of red spreading across David’s face. “When you presented, I mean, David.”

“I, I-”

“Leave David alone, Max,” Gwen admonished. “That’s none of your business.”

Eventually, David drove Harrison into town to see a doctor and they came back with some new pills. It didn’t stop the smell but it made it more tolerable.

The other kids still claimed they couldn’t even smell it.

* * *

 

Mad had been at camp for nearly a month before David disappeared.

Well, stopped appearing anyway.

Does the absence of appearance qualify as disappearance?

One day isn’t unusual. The counselors always get days off. Two days in a row was slightly more so, just because they usually stagger their time off. But the third day?

Talk started to circulate. Max finishes his usual supper, alone, and goes back into the cabin to join the others in conversation.

“I heard he quit,” Nurf offers up. Not usually a gossiper but he almost sounds sad. “He couldn’t take it anymore and just left in the middle of the night.”

“Nuh uh,” Nikki protests. “I heard he got into a fight with a bear in the middle of the woods and is in the hospital in a full body cast.”

"David wouldn't survive a fight with a bear," Neil points out the obvious.

“Then where is he, huh?” Nikki demands to know. “Where is he?”

Harrison, unexpectedly, is the one who somehow knows the truth.

“He went into heat,” the one other omega on the camp grounda spills as he pokes miserably at his plate of untouched spaghetti and meatballs. It’s growing cold. He had claimed his stomach was hurting and had offered it up to anybody else still hungry but nobody has raken up the offer. “Gwen had to lock him up in his room until it’s over because there are no alphas to help him out.”

“No way,” Nikki gushes, sounding excited at the prospect of such a thing “Is he going to get married?”

“Is he dying?” Preston demands to know, nearly yelling out the question so loudly that Harrison hurries to shush him. “I heard an omega who goes through a heat without an alpha will die.”

“That barely ever happens,” Neil says. “That’s only in like, third world countries, where omegas are underfed and don’t have any heat pills to help. They just starve to death because they forget to eat. David is skinny but he’s not that skinny.”

“I heard of an omega who got so hot they had to be rushed to a hospital because the fever was breaking down their organs,” Nerris stage-whispers. “They nearly died.”

“David is fine,” Max interrupts all the childish, uninformed gossip. He should have just stayed outside under his tree but the bats were already coming out. “He’s probably just in his room jerking off. He’ll be back to his old self in just a few days, trust me.”

On the fourth day, Gwen confirms the issue at hand.

“I know you’ve all been spreading rumors about David so I’m just going to go ahead and confirm it, he’s in heat. But no he’s not dead, and no he’s not going to die. So stop worrying and just get on with the camp activities as usual, okay kids? He’ll be back with us all in just a few more days.”

“But that makes no sense,” Neil protests Gwen’s attempt to break them up. “Why would David allow himself to go into heat out in the middle of nowhere with no alphas around?”

"Neil, you should know better," Gwen frowns at him, "David has no control over whether or not he goes in heat."

“But he does have control where he is for his heat,” Neil replies, condescendingly. “Why would he work at a summer camp if that’s when he went into heat?”

"He doesn't have his heat in the summer, normally," Gwen informs him, resting her hands on her hips in a very know-it-all way. "He normally has it sometime in early-December, but certain circumstances have triggered an early heat for him."

Circumstances.

Max glances at Harrison.

"Once you start collecting omegas, they'll all start going into heat at the same time," his nanny had warned him. "It's a competition among the omegas to win over an alpha. When ones goes into heat, others will follow in an attempt to keep an alpha's interest. Within a couple years they should be synced up."

David has gone into heat in the middle of summer due to prolonged exposure to the smell of Harrison’s pre-heat.

Max finds the situation hilarious.

He's on the floor, rolling and kicking and laughing uncontrollably when Gwen drags him off by the arm of his hoodie. His shoes squeak along the floor as she yanks him behind her.

“Max, I have to confess something,” Gwen says once they’re in the safety of her room. She kneels down beside him on the ground, still holding the now extended sleeve of his hoodie. Max is wiping at the tears on his face, his stomach aching from laughter. “I’ve never been around an omega in heat like this. Not long term. I think David’s heat might be worse than I said but I didn’t want the other kids to know. He hasn’t eaten once in three days. I’m barely able to get him to drink. He just lays there, holding his stomach and moaning.”

“Seriously?” he asks, sobering up. “He’s not actually going to die, is he?”

"I, I don't think so. But I was thinking maybe you could stop by and visit him for a bit?"

"What?" Max exclaims, feeling disgusted at the idea of being near another omega smelling like gym socks and dirty dishwater. "Why would I want to see him?"

"Because he's in heat, Max," Gwen sighs, emphasizing the word "heat" as if that is something that should be obvious to him. "And you're the only alpha around."

“The only alpha around? What does that- Are, are you trying to get me to knot him? Gwen, you’re sick.”

“What? No! I just- Forget it, you’re too much of a jerk.”

She releases the grip on his sleeve and stood. Towering over Max once more, she shook her head and turn, muttering once against about selfish asshole alphas.

* * *

 

“Neil? How do you stop an omega in heat?”

“What?” Neil asks, distracted. Max stands at his side, hands in his pockets. Neil’s flipping through a big, heavy book about the size of Max’s head, stopping every so often to tinker with some small, square electronic in his hands. Max has no idea what he’s doing or where he found either object. “Stopping a heat? You can’t do that. They either have to wait it out or be bred be an alpha.”

"Why do some omegas die during their heat?" Max asks then, kicking at the dirt beside the leg of Neil's wooden lab table. "I know you said not many of them do but I mean, it seems stupid, doesn't it? If the point is to reproduce then what's the point of them dying?"

"It's nice to see you showing some interest in science," Neil says, perking up. He sets down his screwdriver and the little box and turns to look at Max, legs dangling below him from the stool he's perched on. He towers over Max on that thing. "Well, everything we know about human mating is only theory, of course. But the general opinion of most scientists is that the three sub genders evolved to exist under extremely harsh conditions. Drought, sudden ice age, that sort of thing. In normal conditions, betas prosper the best because our limited ability to reproduce ensures opportunities for longer periods of gestation and child-rearing practices. Not to mention mate selection process. Betas, like myself, have the ability to be more choosy when picking the mother or father of our children."

"Okay," Max says, impatience creeping through his voice because he doesn't give a shit about droughts and beta behaviors. He just wants to know how to stop a heat. "But what's that got to do with omegas?"

"Omegas evolved to help low populations bounce back quickly," Neil continues. He rubs his hands on his jeans, leaving oil stains in black streaks. "That's why they have litters and why they have heats. Heats reduce their ability to be choosy and to resist childbearing. If a population was totally wiped out by disease or drought, they need to be forced to replenish the population. Usually, this happens during a time of prosperity immediately following a time of deprivation. That's why you see a lot of omegas getting their heats around the holidays. Overeating after maintaining their beach bodies all summer. Triggers their minds that it's time to get pregnant."

Neil suddenly notices the black stains on his pants and curses, wiping at them futilely for a few seconds before giving up and turning back towards the table.

“But it’s summer,” Max says, pointing out the obvious. He accidentally kicks the leg of the table and it shudders. Neil makes an annoyed groan. “So why is Harrison having a pre-heat?”

“The first one is unpredictable,” Neil says, picking up his screwdriver once more. “It’s puberty. Puberty is unpredictable.”

But Neil still hasn’t answered his question.

“But why would omegas die from heat?”

"Because the point of a heat is to force an animal to breed," Neil responds, but he seems to have lost interest in the topic at hand as he's already gone back to looking through his book. "Evolution cares about the species, not the individual. A heat triggers a mating response in omegas that is so painful that all they care about is finding and breeding with an alpha. They don't want to eat or drink. A heat is painful for them. The only way to make the pain to stop is to be bred. Imagine if you had the worse headache in the world. Would you care about eating or would you just be trying to find a way to block out the pain?"

Max nods, more to himself than to Neil's question. That makes sense. Stupid sense, he doesn't see how not having a dick in you could possibly be painful, but the part about a headache makes sense.

* * *

 

“Still full,” Quartermaster points out as he takes the plate from Gwen’s hand.

“I know,” Gwen says. Her voice sounds so down and she’s not usually the peppiest person in the room as it is. Still waiting on his own plate, Max tries to hide behind the jam of the door, hoping maybe they’ll spill some new gossip on the David situation.

“Boy needs to eat.”

“I know,” she repeats. “Just..yeah. Give it to me.”

The "it" in question appears to be a plate of fresh food but from his spot around the corner even Max can tell whatever is on the new plate is different than what the rest of them are eating. The squishy green-tinted casserole on Neil’s plate looks nothing like the bleeding piece of nearly raw meat on David’s.

“Are you sure this will work?” Gwen asks, voice weary. “This looks like it’s still mooing.”

“Mmm hmm. Omegas can’t resist a bloody steak. Always worked for my Quarteraunt.”

A bloody steak? Max can't imagine David touching anything that looks like it had just been cut off the hindquarters of a living creature. Sometimes he's surprised David even eats meat. He seems like he should be able to survive on water and sunshine like some humanoid plant being.

Max waits until Gwen is gone before getting in line for his own tray. Escaping back outside under his tree, he pokes at the mush on his plate, thinking about the conversation he had just picked up.

Neil was right. Omegas in heat don’t eat.

What if David does die?

A few minutes later Gwen walks by him. She throws her arms up in the air as she enters the cafeteria once more, calling out to the Quartermaster "Nothing!"

Do the other campers understand?

He waits until everybody retires for the night before he slips out of the tent.

“Where are you going?” Neil asks. He’s still up, knees pulled close as he reads a book with only a flashlight for illumination. Some sci-fi atrocity with a green blob monster and a blond woman in a bikini on the front.

“Bathroom,” Max replies, pulling his hood up. “I’ll be gone awhile.”

“Whatever,” Neil mutters.

Max isn't sure what he means by that. If he thinks Max has a horrible case of diarrhea or is lying about his future whereabouts. But he doesn't really care. Neil isn't the type to snitch and Max has no wish to share with him his true intentions.

Unwilling to be caught by Gwen or the Quartermaster, he makes his way through the dark with only a half-moon overhead to lead his way. He really, really doesn't want to be caught by either of them and to have to explain why he's out and what he's doing. It could be interpreted in so many ways, and none of them in ways Max wants to be suspected of. "Nice" isn't a reputation he's going for. Rapist, a little better. Still, he's brought along a flashlight just in case, because he'd rather be caught by a counselor than taking on a wolf or bear alone in the dark.

He doesn't end up using it. He knows how to get to David's cabin so easily that he could probably do it in complete darkness.

David’s cabin isn’t locked. Max finds that surprising, he had been expecting to have to spend a good while picking the lock, but nothing is keeping David inside except his own will.

Interesting.

The door creaks, scraping against the floor. Inside is pitch black. Much darker than outside because no light from the moon or stars is able to make it inside. It's almost supernaturally dark as if the light itself has been sucked from the room. Max gropes for the switch near the door, going on instinct where he thinks a switch should be and flips it on.

Immediately, he sees why it is so dark inside. Heavy, dark curtains (Black? Green? Maroon? It's hard to see in the dim lighting) cover the windows. Probably to protect David's privacy from any spying eyes. Or maybe to protect innocent eyes from whatever depraved shit an omega can get up to alone.

He half expects to be greeted by David’s bare ass as the omega fucks himself with a dildo in the middle of the bed.

David is on the bed, but he isn’t masturbating and he isn’t asleep. Max is pretty sure he wasn’t sleeping even when lying there in the dark because he sits up almost instantly and looks towards Max with giant, frightened eyes. His face is blotchy, eyes red. About as unsexy as a person can possibly be. Will Max really reach a pathetic low in his life where a sight like that will make him hard?

“Max!” David manages to croak. “What are you doing here?”

“Shut up, David,” Max says, but there is no real bite to his voice. It’s hard to be mean to the older man when he looks like he does now.

Clad only in a thin pair of boxers, David looks as worn out as if he had just hiked a mountain, uphill, for the last eighteen hours straight. Trembling, flushed, sweating. Max can positively feel the heat radiating off him from across the room. He approaches the bed and it feels like walking towards a furnace. He has to be imagining this. There is no way anybody could just project a wall of flame like this.

“Max, don’t-”

“I said shut up.”

David’s mouth closes, obediently. His hair, normally so soft and poofy looking, falls limply over his eyes. Unwashed. He sniffles, rubbing at his face with the back of his hand.

The smell of unwashed omega probably should stink to high heaven but something is different about David. It isn’t like with Harrison. It’s stronger, harder to ignore. Maybe because Max has just grown used to the smell of the magic kid. But it also isn’t _bad._ In fact, it smells almost pleasant. Sort of earthy and dark like damp soil and autumn leaves.

Which is just more confusing because last time he knew Max wasn’t that much into the spell of wet dirt.

So why does he just want to inhale so deeply? Does he really want to smell David's omega pheromones? Wouldn't that be like smelling in parts of David? Tiny particles of him being inhaled and traveling down into his lungs and through his bloodstream? That's practically eating David.

But he smells good. No in a food way but in a Yankee candle way.

What did that stupid video say? That alphas can tell "compatibility" of omegas through their smell? Thank God. Maybe he never will find Harrison's rotten egg sewage water smell nice. Maybe the reason he stinks to high heaven is because Max just isn't supposed to be drawn to him.

Maybe, maybe this means Max’s alpha hormones are starting to kick in after all.

But Jesus Christ, no way in hell are he and David "compatible." David is just so insufferably...happy. And stupid. And naive. Who cares if they have healthy breeding genes, it's not like Max can knock up a dude.

"Move over," Max grunts, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie in an attempt at faux nonchalance. "Come on, let me up."

Again, David obeys. Scooting over on the bed as if he were incapable of disagreeing or thinking for himself at all. Which in all likelihood is probably the truth. He’s crying quietly.

Max climbs up on the bed and sits down, crossing his legs beneath himself, in the warm spot left by David's body. It's damp with sweat and carries that same heady, dark smell. Beside him, David is attempting to sit up as well. Max's eyes roam on their own, staring at the large bulge showing in David's boxers, but he's distracted by a strange whimpering noise coming from the omega's throat.

“Come here,” Max commands, patting his own lap with one hand. He tries not to think of the bulge in David’s shorts. “Put your head here.”

“I-”

“I said to put your head in my lap, David.”

He still hesitates and Max can tell from the turmoil in his eyes that there is still something of David left in that big head of his. He’s still in there, still able to think, but not able to control his actions. He curls up into a fetal position, laying his head in Max’s lap. He has a heavy head. It presses like dead weight against Max’s thigh, his hair sprawled out like a neglected Barbie doll. Tangled and greasy. David weeps softly, his shoulders shaking and drawn tight.

Max pets his head, murmuring little cajoling noises. They come too easily, too naturally. His other hand goes around the larger man, rubbing at his tense shoulders until they loosen up. David sighs deeply beneath him, his eyes fluttering shut. The strained, anxious muscles of his face melt like butter, softening his features as he relaxes beneath Max's touch. Max watches him for a while, just petting him like a stray kitten he just dragged in. David continues to lay still, breathing deeply. A little too deeply, honestly. He's breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth.

Is he smelling Max? Max doesn’t think he smells like an alpha but if he did how could he tell? He’s always been surrounded by his own scent. He’s unsure if he’s ever smelled another alpha around him. Do they all smell alike? No, surely people would say something to him if he had a weird smell.

Then again, Gwen had asked him to see David and why would she ask him particularly unless there was something about him that stood out?

David is crying again. His face is wet, tears streaming down his cheeks. Max reaches around him as much as he can, wrapping his short, skinny arms around David’s body, holding him close. David nuzzles closer, his nose pressing into Max’s ribs, his tears dampening his shirt. He feels so big, Max might as well be hugging a moose head.

If he were a grown man, a mature alpha, he would be able to wrap David up in his arms entirely. Give him the affection and security he really needs.

“It hurts,” David whimpers, his breath is hot even through Max’s hoodie and shirt. But everything about David feels so warm right now. He had never realized the term heat was supposed to be taken literally. “Max, make it stop.”

“I can’t,” Max coos, rocking him. David presses closer, higher. Max buries his face in David’s hair, kisses his forehead. “Just calm down. Let me hold you.”

David nods, melting back again him. His head falls back into Max's lap. Max takes a moment to breathe as well, trying to get his bearings.

This situation should be more difficult than it is. Max isn’t normally a touchy, feely person. And he definitely isn’t usually that great at comforting people. But everything about this situation just feels right. He knows what he needs to do. He needs to comfort David. He needs to hold him. He needs to make him feel cared for. He needs to make sure he’s taking care of himself. No, not that. He needs to take care of David himself, make sure he doesn’t let himself deteriorate.

There is another smell nearby now, besides the earthy scent of David's heat. Something like blood and garlic. Max turns and spots the plate of untouched food on the bedside table beside a bottle of water. Still closed, the seal unbroken. Cuddles are nice, but he needs to give David more than that.

“Gwen says you haven’t been eating.”

“I can’t,” David replies, eyes still closed. Leaking. “It’s too hard.”

“I think-” Max begins, pulling himself up just a bit. David’s head shifts in his lap as Max reaches towards the table.

“No!” David squeals, grabbing at Max. Panic in his voice. His hands twist into vices on handfuls of his hoodie. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m, I’m not,” Max promises, touching David’s head again, trying to bring him back down from whatever this sudden level of panic could be described as. “I’m just getting this water bottle. See?” His fingers curl around the thin, crinkly plastic. “I want you to drink this for me, okay?”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Drink it,” Max demands, his voice hardening. The sound of his own voice, suddenly dominant, is startling to Max’s own ears. It almost feels like something else is speaking through his body. “I want you to drink this entire bottle of water. If you don’t I’ll leave.”

David looks up at Max again with those wide, frightened eyes. Max reaches out and before he knows it is wiping tears and snot off David’s face with the cuff of his sleeve.

David takes the bottle from Max and all but chugs the entire bottle, emptying it down his throat in long swallows. Max watches the movement of his throat as he drains the entire thing in less than thirty seconds. Then he takes the bottle back from David, the plastic crushed tight beneath his long, thin fingers. Max’s own fingers, stubby and short besides David’s, slide over the man’s in the exchange.

David shivers and lets out of a soft moan.

“Good boy,” Max says, petting David again. He isn’t sure what makes him say it. He doesn’t know why he keeps touching David. He has no idea why he feels the need to coddle him. Max doesn’t want to have sex with this man. He doesn’t want to have sex with anybody, he’s a kid. But there’s something else here, something instinctual at work deep inside him that he absolutely hates.

Something that makes him want to claim David as his own.

He doesn’t even know what that means.

He just knows he wants to own David in a way very similar to how he owns Mr. Honeynuts.

David better never bring this up, to Max or anybody else. He owes him that for putting up with this stupid alpha shit.

The omega reaches between Max’s legs, grabbing for what he craves. But he won’t find whatever satisfaction he wants there. Max is small and underdeveloped. He hasn’t popped his first knot yet and he knows it will be a few years before he even has the possibility of doing so.

Max gently, patiently, pushes David’s hands away.

“I want you to eat something too,” Max tells David. He tosses the water bottle across the room, out of the way, and reaches for the plate next. David is still laying low in his lap, his ear pressed flush against Max’s thigh. “Come on, sit up.”

David is slow about it. Oh, he sits up, but the process almost seems painful. Is it because he doesn’t want to stop touching Max? Is it because he’s just that tired out? Max has no way of knowing.

He cuts the steak up into bite-sized pieces and hand-feeds David. The man seems incapable of doing little more than opening his mouth when told and chewing on command. He keeps sniffling and wiping at his face. Max keeps one hand on David's arm the entire time, rubbing his thumb soothingly into the crease of the omega's elbow. It feels like feeding a baby as he speaks to him. "No, don't swallow. Chew some more. Good. Okay, open up for me. Come on. It'll make me happy if you do this. Just one more bite. There we go. Good boy."

He gets half the steak and about a third of the garlic potatoes into David.

The last bite of potatoes is thrown back up into his mouth as David slaps a hand over his mouth, choking. Max throws the fork aside and reaches for David, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve, again. He'll need to wash this hoodie but he has others in his tent.

“That’s okay,” he soothes, wrapping his arms around David as best as he can. He’s much wider around the shoulders than Max can reach but it doesn’t matter. Not really. “I think it’s time we just go to sleep. Are you tired, David?”

"I'm so tired," David sniffs. "I'm so tired Max, I feel like I haven't slept in weeks."

“I know. You need to sleep. Turn around.”

Max waits until Davis is facing away from him before he reaches behind himself to grab at the back of his hoodie. He pulls it off over his head, along with his t-shirt, and throws them on the floor beside the bed.

Running on primal instinct, he spoons David, pressing his skinny, pre-pubescent bare chest against the broad expanse of David’s back. Skin on skin. David is so hot he feels like he’s on fire. Max can feel every inhale and exhale of the man’s breath. They even out, getting slower, deeper. David continues to whimper, pressing back against Max with his hips.

He can feel the dampness of David’s boxers pressed again his legs. Wet with slick. Needing more than what Max is capable of giving him. Part of Max, the childish part of himself, knows he should be disgusted by David’s current state. That he should want to push himself away from David’s smell and wetness and needy touch.

Max rest his palm on the man’s stomach, squeezing him gently. He kisses David’s shoulder and apologizes. “I can’t, David. Just go to sleep.”

He is just a boy.

Much too young to be caught up in omegas and heats and slick. He can’t knot anybody. He can’t give David what he wants.

Breathing into the nape of the omega's neck though, smelling that ancient forest scent buried in the small red hairs found there, for the first time in his life Max is starting to realize that maybe being an alpha isn't that bad. Someday, maybe, he might be able to give David what he needs. He might be able to give David more than hugs and kisses and cuddles.

And for the first time in his life, Max really wants to feel the satisfaction of helping out another living being.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up @alcoholic-kangaroo on Tumblr. I'm a nomap so I'm not friending anybody first unless that friend me or explicitly state they're okay with nomaps. But I always am looking for new friends and just want to make sure I don't make other people uncomfortable.
> 
> Updated 11/24: now @alcoholic--kangaroo since I was purged, yes I just added an extra dash.


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